This morning, I was woken up by the announcement that there would be several guests staying temporarily in the laundry room. Jake and I were requested to ensure that the dog did not get into the laundry room to disturb them.
The guests, you see, are chinchillas.
Jake got up a few minutes later to go to the bathroom and check on the chinchillas. He returned with a very bright, pleased look on his face...
"How're you doin?" I asked him.
"Good," he replied, smiling and climbing back into bed, snuggling in and closing his eyes.
"Good!" I said.
"I was singing to the chinchillas. They're so cute, and they have such big eyes."
"You were... singing... to the chinchillas?"
"Yeah..."
"Um... what did you sing?"
"I can't remember now... I was just singing about how I hope they're not too inconvenienced by having to stay here for a little while, and that I hope they enjoy their stay, and stuff like that..."
"SINGING?"
"Uh-huh..."
"To the CHINCHILLAS...?"
"Mfff."
And Jake was back asleep. I kissed him and rolled my eyes. I don't suppose a person could be luckier in love than to have an almost-spouse who gets up in the morning to SING to chinchillas... I'm tempted to get off the computer and taunt him about his display of non-badassedness. But I'm still not feeling so well, and neither is he, so I think I'll just smile to myself and go greet the chinchillas.
Love,
~Helena*